that rings a bell. I just remember it being written in a literary/faux-literary style with the finishing touch being "my snout descends". It was a comment by a user who was increasingly writing longer comments of the same style in the "new episode" mega threads playing off the idea of us being hogs. This being their coup-de-grace
The damp, stagnant air clinging to the mud of my pen changes direction. I open one eye and see him. Framed by the light of the open barn door and bright world behind it, the Man begins to amble towards the gate. He is holding something. Others notice too.
At once, there is noise and movement — how long has it been since either occurred? Hours? Days? I do not know, nor do I care: the Man is almost here.
We are pressed together now - fighting for a spot at the trough and baying for him to see us. Crying. Squealing. The heat rises and the once moving air stills as it is stolen from me by my neighbors. I cannot breathe.
At once, the slop I crave is poured - for one, for all - finally. My snout descends, and time stands still. I am free.
I do not notice the distant thumps and squelching of mud as the Man drew nearer, for I am sated. I do not notice the cold, wet steel press up against the side of my head, for I am sated. I do not notice the captive bolt as it enters my skull, for I am sated.
Which one? The “Could it be… slop? I circle the trough, curiously sniffing” etc. one?
that rings a bell. I just remember it being written in a literary/faux-literary style with the finishing touch being "my snout descends". It was a comment by a user who was increasingly writing longer comments of the same style in the "new episode" mega threads playing off the idea of us being hogs. This being their coup-de-grace
https://camas.unddit.com/#{%22subreddit%22:%22chapotraphouse%22,%22resultSize%22:100,%22query%22:%22my%20snout%20descends%22}
CW: Mention of animal violence
The damp, stagnant air clinging to the mud of my pen changes direction. I open one eye and see him. Framed by the light of the open barn door and bright world behind it, the Man begins to amble towards the gate. He is holding something. Others notice too.
At once, there is noise and movement — how long has it been since either occurred? Hours? Days? I do not know, nor do I care: the Man is almost here.
We are pressed together now - fighting for a spot at the trough and baying for him to see us. Crying. Squealing. The heat rises and the once moving air stills as it is stolen from me by my neighbors. I cannot breathe.
At once, the slop I crave is poured - for one, for all - finally. My snout descends, and time stands still. I am free.
I do not notice the distant thumps and squelching of mud as the Man drew nearer, for I am sated. I do not notice the cold, wet steel press up against the side of my head, for I am sated. I do not notice the captive bolt as it enters my skull, for I am sated.
Edit: Added spoiler/CW.
yay! thank you so much. I really needed the nostalgia hit.
oh fuck, I forgot the dark ending.
:rat-salute: